


Little Dressing Boy

by Scientia_Fantasia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Minor Austria/Prussia (Hetalia), vaguely 1800s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 19:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5387027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scientia_Fantasia/pseuds/Scientia_Fantasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dieter is the new dresser's assistant and has never met a nation before. He meets Prussia and Austria and gets a small look into the strange world of nations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Dressing Boy

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of humans interacting with the nation-tans is so intriguing to me so I guess I wrote some of it. Gestures at this vaguely.

It was a testament to the size of the hall that it didn’t seem full even with the amount of people there. The floor was buzzing with activity–caterers, diplomats…well, that was about all the distinction that he could make, a boy hovering near a wall, carefully clutching a bundle of fabric to his chest and watching the commotion in front of him. He was trying to find a particular face. Though at this point, he was more wishing someone had just given him clearer instructions instead of shoving him into the mess and assuming he’d figure it out himself.

Something hit the wall next to him, and he turned around, startled, to see that someone was now leaning there, squinting at him intently. A man, about average height, dressed too plainly to be in government but too sharply to be a worker. He learned these things, as a dresser--that shirt might have been plain, but the way it lay spoke to its extravagant material and fit.

He warily inched away from the figure.

“Who are you,” demanded the person, in a voice that was like gravel if anything was. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Ah. Dieter,” he said, “I’m the dresser’s new assistant...”

“Dieter,” repeated the man. He looked him up and down, rubbing his bare chin thoughtfully. “You lost?”

He looked down, ashamed. “They told me to find the dressing room, but I’m not really sure where that is.”

“Well, lucky you, that’s where I’m going, too.” He put his hand on Dieter’s shoulder and started walking, and the boy got dragged along without much of a choice. Before, he’d ducked around and through the mass of people, finding his way past trays and tables and suits, but this man walked through the hall like they were the only ones in it, and the crowd simply parted before him.

“Don’t be so nervous.” Dieter looked up at the man, whose eyes were trained forwards. “You seem like a good kid. You’ll do fine.”

“Ah,” he started, but his reply was cut short when they abruptly turned into a room off to the side–dimmer, lacking the tall windows of the hallway, and populated by only a few bustling people. Women, mostly, the nearest pouring over a coat heavy with decoration, checking that everything was firmly attached.

Something spread across the room when they entered, though. A stillness, as all eyes turned to them--no, to _him,_ the man that had led him there--and the women stopped what they were doing.

The man just grinned at Dieter, semi-encouragingly hitting him on the back, causing him to stumble forward. He said “good luck,” before carrying on through a side door, disappearing.

He took the quiet air of the room with him. The second he was gone the bustle resumed, and the head dresser appeared to scowl at Dieter. He shrunk away. “Frau Schneider,” he greeted, quietly.

“Dieter! You’re late! Do you have the shirts?”

He held the bundle of fabric out to her, thankful for the rush overruling the demand of an explanation. She took it and examined it just briefly before passing it on to a girl and stalking off, waving Dieter along with her. He dutifully followed, and moments later was burdened with another armful, this one a bit more unwieldy. Frau Schneider handed him a long pair of black boots, and then a polishing kit to match them, then another large box which he recognized as housing all of her cosmetics, then a pile of belts, badges, something with a tassle, all the while talking about “you’re lucky _he_ was late or else we may have just started without you.” The word “he” bounced around in Dieter’s head without a person to attach it to. Who was late? He didn’t have much time to wonder before he was following Frau Schneider, arms full herself, through the same door that that man had disappeared through.

It led to a low hallway, still ornamental but plain compared to the arching ceilings before, which lead up a short flight of stairs--and then to a room that matched that elegance perfectly. The tall ceiling was back, and the intricate details on the walls. Two doors were open underneath the windows, leading to a wide balcony overlooking the city. There was a tall chair sitting in the middle of the room, facing away from the door where they had just come in in favor of three folding mirrors. Dieter couldn’t make out who was sitting in the chair, just that there _was_ someone there, judging by the elbow resting on one of the arms.

He knew who was supposed to be there, at least, and the thought would have made his hands shake if they weren’t trembling under the weight he was carrying already.

Frau Schneider set down the clothes she had been carrying on a side table and marched over to the balcony, shutting the doors curtly.

“Aww, come on, Schneider, it’s nice out,” came a voice from the person in the chair. A very distinct voice, in fact, one that Dieter was newly familiar with, and when the figure rose from the chair and he saw a mess of white hair, the events of the last few minutes all fell into place.

Prussia.

_The_ Prussia, the very Kingdom of Prussia, had found him and led him to the dressing rooms. So that he could dress him. He. Dieter. Him. Prussia.

And he hadn’t even recognized him.

He shuffled over quietly, mouth dry, and placed the items in his arms carefully on another side table, listening to Frau Schneider bicker with, with the _nation_ , and the nation actually bicker back. Dieter knew that his master had been a dresser for the nation for a very long time, but the fact that a relationship had formed between them was...well, it wasn’t something he ever thought about. It was easy to just assume everyone treated their nation with reverence and respect, but...

He looked up at Prussia, who at this point was making a decidedly undignified face at the outfit Frau Schneider was showing him. “You’re not going to make me wear that stupid helmet, are you? Ugh, shit.”

It was all Dieter could do not to laugh, mostly in surprise. His master was handling the nation like a petulant child, snatching things away from his hands before he could mess them up, presumably. Prussia seemed nothing but amused by this. With all the pomp and circumstance emanating off the other people attending the event, the nation’s brashness was, admittedly, relieving.

“Dieter, get Herr Beilschmidt’s boots.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Called into action, the dressing process went quickly, no doubt entirely due to Frau Schneider’s expertise. They replaced Prussia’s current shirt and shoes, then gave him the heavy military coat--most of the process was letting the nation dress himself then Frau Schneider straightening things out and dealing with the decorations, pinning pins and draping sashes. Dieter hung around to hand her things. For all the nation’s complaining, he was remarkably still--except that Frau Schnieder kept having to bat his hand away from unbuttoning the collar of his jacket.

Running out of things to affix to the proud figure, Frau Schneider moved on to cosmetics, instructing Dieter to shine Prussia’s boots, buttons, and everything else that could be, and make sure there wasn’t a speck of dust on him.

That’s where the real fight began, though luckily not for Dieter. The nation tolerated having his hair groomed back and tamed, but the second a brush came anywhere near his face he was shifting away and scowling at it.

“I look fine. Leave it.”

“Herr Beilschmidt, they’ll be expecting--”

The nation interrupted her with mocking gibberish, in a high-pitched voice that Dieter had to bite his mouth not to laugh at. “I don’t care,” he continued, back to his normal, grating tone, “you’ve already ruined the point of military dress with all these baubles, I’m not letting you make me _pretty_.”

Silence fell, and Dieter risked a glance upwards to see his master with a pursed look on her face, a rare thing as she usually just said whatever was on her mind rather than hold it back for propriety's sake. Despite her attitude towards the nation thus far, it seemed his demands actually did give her reason to pause.

That, or she was prudent enough to know when she was fighting a losing battle.

“Fine,” she said, curtly. “But you’ll be the one hearing about it.”

“I’m sure.”

She turned on her heel to gather up her supplies, and Dieter hurriedly looked down again, pretending to be entirely focused on his work.

Prussia rolled his foot on his heel briefly, disrupting his brush. Dieter glanced up at him, realizing the nation’s feet had been remarkably still thus far, despite his struggling with Frau Schneider.

He was met with a smirk, Prussia’s eyes narrowed mischievously. “You like this job?”

Dieter sat back on his feet, not really sure what to say. He nodded.

“Well, if you don’t, you better get out of here now, or else you’re gonna be stuck dealing with me for the next century, like Schneider here.” He gestured with his thumb, and Frau Schneider was shrewd enough not to take the bait.

“I’m happy to be in your service, sir,” Dieter said. He knew it wasn’t the right thing, but what else could he say?

Prussia considered him for a moment, then huffed, turning his attention back to Frau Schneider. “Yeah, he’s gonna grow out of that.”

 

\---

 

It wasn’t long after that they heard a man begin to speak on the other side of the shut double doors, addressing the counsel, no doubt, the way the voice echoed. Frau Schneider followed Prussia to the doors, double checking that his appearance was immaculate, and then finally handed him the pointed helmet, which he strapped on without complaint. Which was...odd.

Dieter paused in his gathering of materials and looked at the nation, facing mostly away from him, arms folded behind his stiff back, chin held high.

It was like an entirely different person was now standing there, none of the slouch and sneer of the man they’d been dressing, now all proud lines and duty.

A chill ran up Dieter’s spine, and he turned back to his work as the doors opened to a structured, official applause, and Prussia marched out with two flag bearers. The doors shut again, and the noises from the ceremony were muffled as the two of them gathered up what was left and went back to the small room to put it away until their services were required again.

Dieter obediently sat in the room as the other dressers got together and discussed the event, their work more or less done until the conference let out. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, politically, but from what he had gathered, their nation wasn’t in a good position to negotiate.

Every so often, a voice would grow loud enough to be heard, muffled, from their room, sometimes in steady, informative tones, sometimes a measure more passionate. Most of the dressers ignored this, but Dieter couldn’t help but look up at the sound, curiosity piqued.

Frau Schneider seemed to notice this, and after a while walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’re not needed here right now, why don’t you go see what’s going on?”

He looked up at her, eyes wide and questioning, and she just nodded, waving him out.

He took that chance with glee and jumped up, going back to the main hallway, now even larger that only a sparse amount of people remained. There was a door open a ways away, voices echoing out of it, manned by a pair of guards. Dieter crept over to it, hesitantly. A few people seemed to be slipping in and out without issue, so he tried his luck--and wasn’t stopped from entering. From entering a wide room, perhaps even more elegant than the hallway outside. He could see where they must have been earlier, mirroring staircases coming down from a mezzanine on the opposite side of the room, each with a pair of double doors near their origin.

On the floor were three long tables, arranged in a rectangle with an open side, the one nearest to him, an angular “U” formation. The tables extending away from him were lined with men in important dress, facing each other from across the gap and speaking over issues of unions and confederations and leadership. The third side, across the room near the base of the stairs, was sparse, with only two figures sitting at the head, seeming more involved in each other than the conversation around them.

Dieter easily recognized one as the nation he had just assisted in dressing. The other, then, must have been Austria.

Both nations were making a play of listening respectfully, to an extent--but their appearance told another story. Prussia was sat back in his chair, arms crossed, leaning on the armrest nearest the other nation, and though Austria was sitting straight and proper, hands folded on top of the table, he was more often glancing over to respond to a comment Prussia made to him, or making one himself.

It seemed to Dieter that they weren’t involved at all. He found himself an unobtrusive place to stay and observe, hovering around a column near the wall, eyes darting between speakers and waiting, still waiting, for one of the nations to voice an opinion of their own, over the government officials’ increasingly argumentative speeches.

They didn’t. Not even when Prussia scowled or Austria’s grip tightened and brows furrowed. Not once. They only ever spoke to each other.

 

\---

 

He sensed when the conference was coming to a close for the day and quickly slunk back into the hallway, wanting to avoid the crowd. It wasn’t long after he stepped foot in the side room again that Frau Schneider was beckoning him over to the dressing room, and they went to return Prussia to his previous state of dress, putting the badges and pins back in velvet-lined cases as the bright sun from earlier in the day began dipping beneath the clouds.

The nation had none of the bravado he had when they’d met previously. He quietly allowed them to do their work, occasionally lending a hand when it was needed, but mostly he stared off at nothing in particular, looking to be deep in thought.

“Is something the matter?” Dieter asked, after a while. The nation lifted out of his reverie to look at him, and Frau Schneider raised an eyebrow. Dieter flushed slightly, not sure if he was stepping out of place, but Prussia’s attitude seemed so different all of the sudden. It was concerning, to say the least, both because of the nation personally and...the nation _nationally_. This wasn’t a small event, and Prussia coming out of it worse for the wear didn’t bode well.

The nation grinned at him, and Dieter felt some of the tension in the air fall away.

“Don’t worry about it, little Dieter,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Some prissy aristocrat isn’t going to get the better of the great Prussia.”

“Herr Beilschmidt!” Frau Schneider exclaimed, looking shocked at his tone. Dieter laughed, more out of surprise than anything, but quickly covered his mouth.

“What?” Prussia said, looking up at her, defensive. “You’ve talked to Austria, haven’t you?”

“I have,” she said, trailing off in thought for a moment, hands stilling. “I will admit he is very...proper." Her words were chosen carefully. "But I’m not sure you have any place calling someone an ‘aristocrat’ when half of your current adornments are made of solid gold.”

“Silver,” Prussia corrected, and Frau Schneider frowned, nevertheless keeping her irritation to herself. Dieter felt she was justified in being put off at the correction. She knew more about what went into the outfit than anyone on earth, probably. “And it’s not like I asked for these. I’d be somewhere rolling in dirt right now if the counsel wasn’t so caught up on appearances. It’s not like you need me here.”

Dieter might have laughed if the last comment hadn’t been tinged with some actual emotion.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his master said. “They would be nothing without your support.”

Prussia seemed placated at that, though not entirely convinced, and fell back into his silent contemplation. Dieter returned to him his shoes, wondering what could be going on in a mind that was hundreds of years old. The thought was a little frightening.

Prussia wasn’t, however. Somehow, the nation wasn’t scary at all.

 

\---

 

Released from his duties for the time being, Dieter finally took his chance to explore the building before he had to help move everything out. Luckily, government officials always took forever to do anything, so he probably had a decent amount of time to wander around without people going looking for him.

There were a lot of halls snaking off to other parts of the buildings, and lots of doors lining them, most of them locked firmly shut, to his disappointment. Not that he wanted to snoop around, but...it was an interesting building. He hadn’t had the chance to be in many official government-type places, much less explore them freely.

He found a set of stairs leading up to the second floor and leapt up them, the carpet at his feet muffling the steps to almost nothing. The hallway at the top had no lanterns lit, and the slowly setting sun cast long shadows across the floor.

Dieter wandered down a hallway, looking out the windows at the rooftops of the city. The bustle from downstairs could barely be heard up here, his breathing suddenly audible in the empty hall. He tried to ignore his heartbeat speeding up--there wasn’t anything to be scared of, really. Except the dark. But he would be a grown man soon, he couldn’t let that get to him.

Then he noticed that there was a murmur of voices that seemed closer than the rest, drifting along the walls rather than up the staircase. Dieter swallowed his nerves and followed the sound, trying to step as lightly as possible. As he made his way closer, the speech got clearer. First, he recognized the distinctive growl of his nation’s voice--it couldn’t have been anyone else. Then there was a second one, softer, harder to hear, but it was evident enough that neither of the speakers were happy.

That was as much as Dieter could be sure of. The speech seemed German enough, but the accents were off and some of the words didn’t make sense to him, or were words that he’d only heard people use when trying to imitate the language from things written hundreds of years ago. Once he was close, sneaking near a turn in the hallway that Prussia _must_ have been on the other side of, he picked out words like “war” and “chancellor” and “unification” from their conversation, but their tone was still the most telling thing. Low. Tense. Aggravated, on Prussia’s part, but the other voice seemed almost...comforting? Maybe placating was the better word.

Dieter took a deep, though silent, breath before sticking his head past the turn in the hallway, just far enough to look. And there was Prussia, facing him, arm leaned high against the wall right above the other figure’s shoulder, who seemed to be relaxing into the space Prussia created.

Austria. It must be. Their posture reminded Dieter of a couple. A couple who was arguing, but more about something else than with each other. That struck him as odd. He’d heard of weddings between countries, but Prussia wasn’t married to Austria, was he? Their relations hasn’t exactly been civil recently.

He didn’t have much time to consider the question. Moments after leaning out to take a look, Prussia’s red eyes glinted, meeting his, and the nation tensed before Dieter flattened against the wall, out of sight, heart now pounding hard in his chest. No one had told him he wasn’t allowed up here, but--nations! He’d been eavesdropping, and...!

He was in trouble. He had to be.

Austria, that delicate voice, spoke to Prussia again, and this time Dieter could understand more or less the intent. _Is something wrong?_

“No,” Prussia answered, and then in the language Dieter could more easily recognize, “Is that you, little Dieter?”

Dieter shuffled out from behind the wall, head down. “S-sorry, Herr...” what had Frau Schneider called him? He couldn’t remember. “Herr Prussia. I was just...exploring, and--”

Prussia laughed, more of a cackle, and Dieter looked up, surprised at the joviality. The nations had parted, more space between them now, Austria looking at Dieter with subdued surprise.

Prussia waved him over. “You’re not in trouble, kid. Come here, I was just telling my friend Austria about you.”

Dieter walked over, hesitantly. Austria mouthed the word “friend” at Prussia, questioning, and the other nation shrugged.

“This is Dieter,” he said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “The little dressing boy I was telling you about. He’s gonna take over for that crone Schneider and not make me wear those stupid helmets anymore.”

“Oh, don’t use such crude language around him,” Austria scolded, before crouching down to talk to Dieter, eyes a bit lower than the boy’s at this height. And now that Dieter was close, he saw just how _beautiful_ the nation was. Prussia looked just like a regular person to him, albeit with uncommon coloring, but Austria seemed like something out of a painting come to life, with skin like porcelain and thick lashes framing bright eyes with swirling colors Dieter was sure he’d never seen in a human’s before.

“You did a wonderful job today,” he said, and Dieter nodded, dumbly. “It can’t be easy getting _Prussia_ to look like that.”

“Hey!” interjected the nation, and Austria just laughed, covering his mouth. Dieter smiled, unsure where he came into this teasing.

“Um,” he went, and both of the nations looked at him, expectant. “I have a question.”

“Yes?” Austria said, standing up again and dusting off his coat as if it had even touched the ground.

“Why don’t you talk?” asked Dieter. “I mean, during the conference. You looked upset but you didn’t say anything.”

Prussia crossed his arms, looking away with an irritated huff. “‘Cause no one _gives_ a--” Austria hit him, the back of his hand smacking harmlessly against the nation’s chest, and he rolled his eyes, amending his language. “No one really cares what we have to say. So we don’t, unless they’re trying to do something really...not. Great.”

“Why wouldn’t they care?” Dieter insisted, confused. “You’re our _country_. You know better than anyone!”

Prussia stared at him, wide-eyed, and Austria turned to the other nation, irritation replaced with a knowing, fond, smile.

“Kid,” Prussia said, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder, “go into government.”

“Uh?” went Dieter.

“What he means to say,” Austria started, raising an eyebrow at Prussia, “Is that we’re simply outnumbered. Most nations don’t hold any sort of political power these days, us included. It was different when that power went to whomever was strongest--”

“For _some_ of us.”

Austria hit Prussia again, earning only a cackling giggle.

“ _But now_ ,” the nation continued, pointedly. “we’ve been voted out of our own systems. Our opinions don’t often line up with those of the men in power, you see, and not many people take very well to having a permanent figure be very influential in their governments, despite the validity of that figure’s opinions.” He let out an irritated huff of air, polite demeanor strained. “So it would, in fact, be nice if young men like you would grow up and take our views into consideration.”

“Oh,” went Dieter. This was all a little...much.

“But you’re a good dresser,” Prussia added. “So really, do whatever you want.” He murmured something in that strange German to Austria, who sighed deeply in response. But the exhaustion on his face disappeared suddenly as he offered a polite smile to Dieter.

“It was a pleasure speaking with you,” he said. “Perhaps you should go see if Frau Schneider has work for you?”

That, he understood the meaning of. “Thank you for your time,” Dieter said, and scurried off after Prussia’s “See you later, little Dieter!”

The accented German followed him through the hall, but was gone, from his ears, at least, once he reached the stairs.

Nations were odd creatures.

**Author's Note:**

> ok this was sort of meant to be set at a specific event in history but i know, so little about it, i just kind of vaguely talked about it so no one could jump at me for historical inaccuracies, lmao. Anyways yeah. Hope you liked it.


End file.
